


Even a Warrior Needs Somewhere to Rest

by dragonwings948



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (Big Finish Audio)
Genre: Audio: Casualties of War, Coffee, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feels, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Paris (City), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:35:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25390978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonwings948/pseuds/dragonwings948
Summary: Following the events of Casualties of War, Leela convinces the Doctor to take a brief break from the Time War.
Relationships: The Doctor & Leela (Doctor Who), The War Doctor & Leela
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	Even a Warrior Needs Somewhere to Rest

**Author's Note:**

> Soo I had this fic about halfway written when some good friends of mine (hi again) shared an Eighth Doctor and Charley playlist with me and one of the songs was [Ally by We the Kings](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7KHAuLK6z1c). It legitimately startled me when I heard it the first time because one line (that this fic is named after) is almost exactly what I had Leela say to the Doctor at the beginning of the story. So hence the title, and please listen to the song because FEELS. 
> 
> Also just a disclaimer that there are some minor spoilers for Casualties of War, and a pretty massive spoiler for Only the Monstrous. But even if you haven't heard the War Doctor box sets, I think you'll still thoroughly enjoy this! 
> 
> I think everything will make sense without saying this, but just to cover my butt: Leela is depicted as quite a bit older in Casualties of War and has been through a lot on her own, so I tried to make her a little more mature and intuitive in this one. She's still the Leela we all know and love, but she's lived a lot longer and seen a lot more. 
> 
> And now I'll shut up and let you enjoy two of my favourite Doctor Who characters! :)

Finally, for the first time in a long while, Leela breathed out a long sigh of relief.

She had never been able to relax in the Obsidian Nebula; even when there hadn’t been Daleks to fight, countless other dangers had come her way. And on top of that, her mind had never been at rest with conflicting realities trying to fight for dominance.

And now, finally, she had a moment to breathe.

She was _exhausted._

“Leela, I imagine you’re staying here?”

She blinked, only just realising that the Doctor—or whatever he wanted to be called—was speaking to her.

She considered his question, but really it had already been decided. She felt a sense of duty to Gallifrey, the place that had been her home though she wasn’t one of its people. And more than anything, she needed to stop the Daleks. 

“Yes, I am.”

Ollistra turned her head to try and hide a less than thrilled look, though not before Leela caught it.

“Well, I’ll be off then.” The Doctor nodded to Ollistra. “Cardinal, it hasn’t been a pleasure, as usual. And Leela,” he added, turning to face her, “I’m glad to have seen you again.” A small smile touched his lips but was gone in a moment as he turned swiftly and strode off.

Leela blinked at the abruptness of it all. She glanced at Ollistra to see her frowning after him.

“Is he leaving?”

“Yes,” she sighed, “he does that rather frequently.”

Leela didn’t need to give her decision another moment’s thought. Her feet spurred into action and carried her quickly, following the path the Doctor had taken.

“Wait! Doc—” She paused, thinking of his earlier reactions to people calling him by his old name. “Wait!” she repeated as she watched him open the TARDIS door and step inside. He spun, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“I thought you said you were staying,” he said.

“Yes,” Leela panted, “but you cannot simply leave without saying goodbye.”

His expression hardened. “I don’t like goodbyes.” He closed the TARDIS door abruptly in her face.

With the slam of the door came the feeling of a dagger stabbing into her heart. For a moment she wondered if his own claims of being a callous old brute were true.

But then, with a drawn out squeak, the door opened again to reveal the Doctor, contrition clear in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Leela,” he murmured. “I…” He sighed, seeming unable to continue.

Leela studied his worn and lined face, reading the terseness that remained even when his expression was slack with remorse. She considered how good it had felt to take a cleansing breath after they had come back to Gallifrey, to know that at least for one moment, everything was okay. The Doctor, it seemed, hadn’t allowed himself that luxury. She found herself wondering how long it had been since he had truly felt at peace.

“I’m not the man I was,” he finished, his voice only a low grumble.

“I know,” Leela stated simply. “You are a warrior now, and you are very bad at it.”

The Doctor looked up sharply and met her gaze. “I’m sorry?” he asked with an incredulous chuckle.

“Even a warrior knows when to rest,” she continued. “It is clear that you have had none in a very long time.”

“That’s just it: no time for it. There’s too much to do. Too much at stake.”

Leela huffed an ironic laugh, shaking her head. “You have a _time machine,”_ she reminded him. “I think you do not rest because you do not want to.”

By the affronted look in his eyes, Leela knew she was right.

“Romana told me of an Earth place you took her once with good coffee and some sort of grand tower…” She thought hard, remembering things from long ago. “Paris?”

The Doctor let out another ironic laugh. “You’re not seriously suggesting that we go sip on coffee in Paris while the Time War is still raging on, are you?”

“Why not? We can arrive back here the moment we left. If you can give me one good reason why we should not, I will leave you alone.”

As the Doctor sputtered, trying to find something to say, Leela could tell that he wasn’t used to this sort of battle of wills. The people he normally opposed like Ollistra and her lot were easy to disagree with because he didn’t like them anyway. But Leela prided herself on being different. The Doctor knew her, and he knew how well _she_ knew _him._ She had an advantage.

She saw the very moment he broke down, the way his shoulders slumped and he let out a great sigh. “Oh, all right,” he grumbled, as if she had asked him to perform some burdensome task. He stepped to the side and gestured for her to enter.

Leela smiled and walked into the TARDIS again. It was incredible how much it still felt like home. There was a sense of security here that she had never quite felt anywhere else.

“I hope you’re happy.” He kept up the grumpy front with a tremendous frown as he flipped the switch that closed the TARDIS door and began preparing the ship for flight.

Leela couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of him obstinately looking so grouchy. She hadn’t laughed in a long time.

He met her gaze, his lips twitching at the corners like he was trying not to smile. “Is something funny?”

“You say you are different, and yet you are just the same.”

The time rotor began moving up and down while the TARDIS engines started up their grating noises. The Doctor seemed to act busy at the console, but Leela thought he simply didn’t want to think about her statement.

_Just the same,_ she reflected. As much as he insisted to the contrary, the Time War hadn’t changed who he was. After what Leela had seen, she knew he was still the Doctor, the man who tried to do right in every action he performed.

The TARDIS landed a moment later and the Doctor read something off the console. “Paris, 2031. Right on target.” He flipped the door control. “After you.”

Leela walked out into a mild, breezy day with bright sunshine. The hum of people’s voices sounded close by, but it looked like the TARDIS had landed in some kind of alley.

“Come on.” The Doctor stepped out, closing the TARDIS door behind him, and took the lead. “This way.”

Leela followed him to a tall metal staircase that led to the top of the building. The entire frame shook as the Doctor put one foot on the first step. Leela paused, eyeing the staircase doubtfully. But if she trusted anyone it was the Doctor, and he tromped up the steps like they were made out of solid rock. So she nimbly ascended the steps behind him, stepping lightly to try and make the stairs move as little as possible.

As Leela walked out onto a flat rooftop, she took a moment to examine the surroundings. To her right was a wide river with lots of boats bobbing on its surface. A gentle breeze puffed out the sails as the vessels swayed with the flow of the water. Past the water lay a vast city, easily visible from her elevated viewpoint. And as Leela turned to fully take in the sights, she saw a large tower rising up past all the other buildings.

“Doctor! It is the tower!” She turned to him with a grin but immediately realised her mistake upon seeing his deep frown. “I’m sorry. It…slipped out.”

His gaze softened. “I know.” He came to join her at her side and joined his hands behind his back, looking toward the tower.

“If I cannot call you by your name, I will need to call you something else.”

“No you don’t. You don’t need to call me anything.”

Leela smiled and eyed him in her peripheral vision. “What about ‘Old Man?’”

The Doctor scoffed. “Like I said, there’s no need for names. But I _am_ old now, Leela. So much older…”

“Can you speak of anything except the war?” The Doctor she knew would bounce around topics so fast she couldn’t catch up; now, everything seemed to come back to the Time War.

“It would seem not. And it would also seem that you were right.”

Leela glanced over at him, but he continued to look forward.

“I’m not very good at taking a break.” He met her eyes and smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Leela wondered why he didn’t smile more when it was such a good smile on this face.

“Coffee!” The Doctor turned back around and Leela noticed she had been so captivated by the view that she hadn’t even noticed a little indoor cafe on the roof. “Do you even like coffee?” the Doctor asked as he began strolling that way.

“Only when it is very sweet.” She remembered Romana having her try black coffee once—she had nearly spit it back into her friend’s face.

The Doctor chuckled. “Do you know, Leela, I’ll never forget waking up after nearly killing myself to save your people and seeing you eating chocolate as you watched over me.”

The memory was hazy, but as Leela recalled it she laughed. “I have not thought about that in a very long time.”

They went inside and the Doctor ordered two coffees, getting Leela something called a “latte.” Leela noted how they received odd looks from the man at the counter and the few customers milling about. On examining her own appearance as well as the Doctor’s, she realised they did look rather battered.

“Here.” The Doctor handed her a paper cup that was warm to the touch. Leela breathed in a sweet, chocolatey smell and smiled. She took a small sip and uttered an exclamation of delight, drawing everyone’s attention to her again.

“This is _wonderful!”_ She took another huge gulp—burning her tongue—and relished the sugary taste.

The Doctor didn’t seem to mind her outburst. In fact, he started to chuckle.

“What is so amusing?”

“I forgot what it was like traveling with you.” He took a sip of his own coffee and nodded appreciatively. “Come on, let’s go back outside.”

They walked back out onto the rooftop. The Doctor made his way to the furthermost railing that offered a view of the river and leaned against it, staring at the water below.

“So, what now, Leela? What do we talk about, if not the war?” He took a sip of his coffee. “It’s all I’ve known for so long now.”

“Since it seems you cannot keep your mind off of it, then tell me about it.”

The Doctor remained silent.

“Well, if you are so eager to talk about it, why do you say nothing?”

“I can’t talk about it,” he muttered. “Not about what I’ve done. To think about all the blood on my hands…”

She watched his fingers tighten around his cup. It was only now that she truly saw the difference in this Doctor. Who was this tortured man standing before her, unable to cope with war even though it was what he had determined to live his life for? For the first time, she wondered if this had been a bad idea. Could he truly ever rest with all of that guilt and rage built up inside of him?

“Maybe it would help,” she suggested. She took another, more careful sip of her coffee. “The time lords—like that unhappy woman, Ollistra—do not like to talk about things. They like to think that they are stronger alone.” She looked over at him. “Is that what you think too?”

He took a moment to answer. “No, of course not.”

“Then share some of your burden with me.” After all he had done for her, it was the very least she could do.

The Doctor met her eyes, his resolve visibly dissolving once again. “How do you manage to do that?”

She smiled. He didn’t need to clarify. “You forget that I was a warrior long before you were, Doctor.”

He hummed noncommittally, looking back out at the city. “It started…well, I suppose it started with Susan.”

And with that came the flood of tales about how the Doctor became aware of the war and refused to take part. How he had slowly come to realise that there was no alternative to fighting. He related his regeneration and his years upon years of fighting the Daleks in this new body; “too many years to count,” he said. He told her about a girl named Rejoice, her stubborn belief in him, and his failure to save her. He heatedly related stories about the infernal weapons that both the time lords and the Daleks had devised to slaughter millions. He talked about battles of wits with the Dalek Time Strategist and being stranded with Cardinal Ollistra.

He shed no tears, but in the trembling of his voice and the set of his jaw she could see which actions he was most ashamed of, the memories that haunted him the most. Though he began slowly at first, in the end it was all pouring out of him like he had waited so long to be unburdened by it all. Leela asked him questions occasionally, but mostly just let him talk. Like she had suspected, it seemed like he needed it.

Finally, he let out a great sigh. “…and then I met you, and here we are.” He shook his coffee cup which sounded like it was now empty. Leela had finished her own ages ago and felt a buzz starting to itch at her brain—“caffeine,” she thought she remembered Romana calling it.

The Doctor’s stories swirled around in her head. One thing remained obvious: however much the Doctor tried to cast blame on himself, Leela saw through his self-loathing. He _was_ the Doctor as much as he could possibly be. And yet it seemed that the only person who couldn’t see that was himself.

She placed a hand on his arm. “Do not be angry with me,” she said softly, “but I must tell you that you are still the Doctor.” His muscles tensed underneath her touch. “I will not say your name anymore because I know you do not like it, but I had to tell you what I think.”

He didn’t reply. He stayed silent for a long time, his eyes seeing things far away. Leela watched the people of Paris milling about and found it hard to believe that the Doctor lived and breathed the Time War while these humans knew absolutely nothing about it. They didn’t know that the Doctor was sacrificing his life, his soul, and everything he was to save them and the rest of the universe.

“Thank you, Leela,” the Doctor said eventually. “I _do_ feel better.” He turned his head and looked past her. “What do you say about going up the Eiffel Tower?”

Leela glanced over at the tower and grinned. “Yes! That is a good idea!” With the way she was feeling, she felt like she could sprint there in a matter of minutes.

The Doctor’s expression conveyed a touch of concern. “Remind me to get you decaf next time.”

Leela laughed. “Will there be a next time?”

The Doctor offered his arm and smiled. “You can count on it.”


End file.
